Dancing With the Devil
by 12Frida39
Summary: Being a half demon is difficult, when demons are coming after you in greater numbers with each year. This is especially true for Rose Jay, a lonely half demon who has set up shop in the neighborhood of Devil May Cry. What she doesn't know is that she's about to embark on an extremely dangerous mission with Dante that will bring them closer together by first tearing them apart.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Dante's P.O.V.**

Walking back down the street to my shop, having finished a rather expensive yet satisfying meal at my favorite restaurant, I find my thoughts wandering south. Lady has been hounding me to find a woman and stick with her, because quite frankly, she's had it with my one-night-stands, which usually end with someone getting hurt. Trying to think back to the best one I've had so far, the first one that comes to mind is Charlotte. Oh fuck... That night was beyond what words can describe. Sadly, as one-night-stands go, there's no exchange of contact information, so I unfortunately have no way of getting in touch with her.

My thoughts are snapped back to the present when I reach the front steps of Devil May Cry and find that the door is half open. Quietly, I walk up the front steps, discovering upon closer inspection that whoever opened the door was not a friend to my business. Slowly creeping inside and closing the door behind me, I observe the wreckage that has befallen my shop. Various items are strewn across the floor. Including but not limited to, ammunition, some worthless weapons I'd completely forgotten about, and my _relatively_ small collection of magazines depicting women in very revealing lingerie. Waiting for any signs of movement, I'm starting to think that whoever it is has already left when I hear a crashing sound coming from upstairs. A string of hushed cursing reaches my ears, and I discern the voice as female. My demon stirs a bit, getting excited.

"Where the fuck are they?!" the woman's voice screams in frustration, her footsteps marching across the floor of my bedroom in circles.

Suppressing a chuckle of contempt, I walk over to my desk, sitting down on its edge. It's in this moment that I catch a whiff of a new scent. Without a doubt, I know it's the scent of a demon, which confuses me to no end. If her scent tells me she's a demon and her voice is human, then that means-.

My bedroom door slowly opens with the faintest creak and my uninvited "guest" lazily steps out. Her emerald green eyes are locked on my icy blue ones, shining with a hint of triumph. Next thing I know, she vaults off the railing and lands about six feet away from me. I find myself speechless... Her style reflects me when I first started my little business. Black leather combat boots that come halfway up her calf, smoke gray skinny jeans, black crop top, and a crimson red tailcoat, which even had two empty gun holsters hanging down the back-. Wait up a sec... EMPTY?!

My time to ponder this matter is brought to a screeching halt as the me-like woman stalks over to me, smirking deviously, which excites my demon even more. Her eyes scan over me, lingering down south. I chuckle as she continues to approach me with more certainty, my demon stirring fiercely as she gets ever closer, her slender form oh so inviting.

"You looking for something, babe?" I growl seductively at her.

"I _was_ looking for something in particular," she replies sheepishly, twirling a lock of her long, golden brown hair around one finger while biting the corner of her lip. "But I think I just found something even better."

Her emerald green stare does a double take on me while my eyes wander to her well-toned midsection, then up to her decent size bust. By now, I'm fighting to keep my demon from taking over.

"Like what you see, babe?" I whisper huskily as she feels along my abdomen through my shirt, making my nerves go into a frenzy. "You can have it if you want, but it's gonna cost ya."

"Name your price, Dante," she purrs, very slowly climbing onto my lap and straddling my waist. "I'll match every dollar."

"You can give me your name as a start," I reply suggestively, running a hand through her silken hair.

"Well, I'd love to, but-," her breath tickles my ear as she leans in close. "Unlike your guns, I find names really don't have that much value."

My mind registers what she means while my hands reach for Ebony and Ivory. In the same instant, the door of the shop swings open and Lady gawks at the scene. My body is now frozen, paralyzed. The half demon woman quickly pulls her arms away, and with a wink at me, she disappears in a haze of white flame. Shakily, fearing to confirm the truth, I reach back to the holsters where my guns should be, only to meet empty leather.

"Dante, if that was the beginning of another one-night-stand-."

"I swear, it wasn't me!" I protest, throwing my hands up in the air. "She came onto me-."

A small calling card and a crimson red rose on my lap stops me there. Lady walks over and smirks, going over to the couch on the far right side of the room. She sets down her weapons and turns to me, expectant.

"Dante," she urges as I make my way to the front door, making a slight detour to pick up Rebellion. "Where do you think you're going?"

Grudgingly, I fish into the left pocket of my tailcoat and pull out a wad of bills, tossing it to her without looking back.

"Don't die out there," Lady giggles at me, mocking.

I groan and shrug off her comment, walking out of my shop, only one thought going through my head; getting my guns back, whatever it takes.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Rose's P.O.V.**

Sitting at my workbench, I carefully observe every detail of the twin hand-cannons that have been escaping me for the past five years straight. In my right hand, I hold the silver one, engraved with the title of _Ebony_ , and in my left I hold _Ivory_. The letters were written in very steady, careful hand print. Both Desert Eagles are intricately balanced, which gives away the fact that they were custom made. I can't help but smile with giddy intrigue. It's been weeks since I've had a custom weapon - let alone a pair of them - sitting on my workbench. Using the power within my right arm, I summon my fiery working tools and immediately set them to work taking both Ebony and Ivory apart. During this time, I fish around the various drawers in the bureau behind me, pulling out my trusty white pencil, a new sheet of blank blueprint paper, and a straightedge. I dare to take a glance outside and notice that it's getting dark, the streetlights having just come on.

"Maybe the poor half demon got lost after all," I chuckle to myself, setting the blueprint paper down on my workbench and beginning to sketch the prints for one of the guns. "All the better for me, though."

Once the two halves of Ebony and Ivory have been separated, I examine them closely, including every mechanism and their function into my blueprints. Setting down the white pencil, I do a double take on the guns, inspecting for any parts that need replacing. To my great surprise, the only thing I needed to fix were the worn-out trigger springs. My tools once again get to work, this time sealing the two halves of Ebony and Ivory back together again, making it look as though it never even happened. They've just disappeared, leaving the twin guns on my workbench when the front door of my shop opens and closes again, the small bell above it jingling vigorously.

"Welcome to Rares Repairs," I say cheerfully, the familiar greeting rolling off my tongue. "Feel free to have a seat, read a magazine, and I'll be with you in three minutes."

"My guns, please," Dante's husky voice growls as he meanders over to my workbench, looming over me. "Now if you don't mind."

"Three minutes, Dante. I'm sure you can wait," I sigh, irritated.

Not even two steps away from the bureau where my polishing supplies are set out, Ebony and Ivory in my hands, he traps my wrists in his iron grip, a terrifying and feral growl ripping from his throat.

"Just let me give them a quick buffing," I insist, wincing as his grip tightens and he glares at me with cold, icy blue eyes. "I promise it won't cost you anything."

He doesn't respond for a long time, simply staring at me, judging, like he's staring straight into my soul, which makes me uncomfortable. Giving a decisive huff, his grip on my wrists slackens and he pulls my stool up next to my polishing workstation while I quickly get to polishing Ebony first. I have to set Ivory down on the table, next to my supplies, and just as I had expected, Dante picks it up and inspects it with a kind of mechanical scrutiny.

 _Typical_ , I think to myself. _Men and their guns…_

My body freezes up when I feel the muzzle pressing against the side of my head. I don't even move a muscle, my heart stopping and starting again at an unusual rhythm.

"Huh, so you replaced the trigger spring," Dante mutters thoughtfully, withdrawing the gun from its threatening point blank position against my head. "Anything else you should be telling me?"

"I replaced the trigger spring in Ebony as well," the words tumble out as I hold said Desert Eagle out to him, focusing on the supplies in front of me as if they were the most interesting things in the world. "I swear on my life that's all I did."

Dante puts Ivory into my hand, holstering Ebony and watching as I repeat the polishing process a second time, not even so much as glancing in his direction. He asks me a series of questions about my business all the while, however, the one question he insists on having answered is-.

"What's your name?"

His voice is calm and kind, almost neutral. Nothing like it was a few minutes ago.

"My name?" I force a small laugh, still refusing to make eye contact as I return Ivory to him. "You'll find it's already in your pocket, Dante."

He pulls the rose I left him earlier this afternoon and brings it up to his mouth to hold it between his teeth, making me scowl.

"So, does this mean you're mine now?" he asks softly, giving me a shit-eating smirk, lifting my chin up with one hand to look into his eyes.

"No, it means you're one of three other people that know my name," I reply flatly, pushing his hand away while taking a step back. "And it also means it's time for you to leave."

"What if I don't wanna leave?" Dante purrs, stepping closer to me, picking the thorns from the rose's stem, arranging my hair, and then tucking the flower in above my ear.

"Then I might consider charging you money," I whisper, smiling as he swiftly steps back. "I'm serious, though. You need to leave, Dante. I won't tell you a third time."

Turning my back on him, I walk quickly towards the staircase leading up to my personal living space on the second floor. I'm halfway up the stairs when I hear him calling after me, wanting me to come back downstairs, which I blatantly ignore. As I walk across my living room and open my bedroom door, I witness the cause for his concern. At least thirty or so demons all turn their glowing red eyes to me while their leader flees through my bedroom window, his blue tailcoat trailing out behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Dante's P.O.V.**

My blood turns to ice when Rose's shriek rips the air. I bolt up the stairs and make a beeline for her bedroom, pulling her out of the way, turning my back on the demons. Her pupils have shrunk to the size of the head of a pin. Knowing it's pointless to engage in conversation for several reasons, I instruct her to stay put, to which she complies. Turning around once again, I watch as the last of the demons flee through her bedroom window. I race across the room, groaning in annoyance, slam the window shut and lock it.

"Well, they may have gotten away," I grumble with a sigh, scanning the room for any possible stragglers. "But that's okay. Means I have more time to spend with you."

Looking back to Rose, my relief becomes nothing more than a memory. Her face is alarmingly pale, tears streaming from her eyes, and her body is tense, stone still. Sheer terror is emanating from her in tidal waves. Clearly, there's got to be more to those demons spawning in her bedroom than meets the eye. Walking over to her, I hold her shoulders firmly, kneeling in front of her on one knee, hoping that I don't appear as a threat. The last thing I need is for her to become afraid of me.

"Rose, you'll be okay," I whisper soothingly, gently cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears, standing up to leave.

"Please, don't go."

"If you ever feel the need for a good time, you know where to find me," I say flatly, walking towards the stairwell.

"I'm not safe anymore, Dante..."

Her voice is just barely audible, the words having come out as a strangled whimper. Next thing I know, she's shuddering as though racked by an earthquake, her knees buckling underneath her. Not knowing what else to do, I meander back over to her and hold her close, rubbing her back to help calm her down. After a few minutes, she regains enough of her composure to speak clearly.

"I've been alone for nine years, fighting for my life..." Her emerald green eyes lock on my icy blue ones, pain, loss, despair, and loneliness making her form appear fragile, as if one wrong step could shatter her entirely. "I can't do this anymore..."

Without saying a word, I pick Rose up bridal-style and head back downstairs to her workbench, letting her down next to a set of blueprints as per her directions. I try reading the handwritten notes, which earns me a small headache. To ease this discomfort, I go to observing the sketches, of which are strangely familiar.

"You made blueprints for my guns?" I huff, taking out Ebony to compare with the sketches.

"I may be a blacksmith, but the one thing I lack is proper weaponry," Rose replies distractedly, rapidly collecting little round somethings from a number of drawers I don't want to try counting.

"Why?" I press on, watching her place brilliantly colored gems onto the blueprints in a very specific order.

"All you need to know is that demons are responsible for it," she growls, shoving me aside while handing me a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. "Put these on or you'll go blind."

I hesitate to put them on as Rose takes off her tailcoat, letting it fall to the floor. Suddenly, her right arm has seemingly transformed. The charcoal-black outer hide is rough, whereas the ribbons snaking down her arm that connected at her wrist to form her palm were bright orange and looked almost like cracks in pavement. Rose opens her palm wide, facing towards the gems laid out on the blueprints. Even with the sunglasses on, the light from the white flames emanating from her palm is still very bright, and I'm forced to close my eyes. When the light fades, I open my eyes to see an almost perfect replica of both Ebony and Ivory sitting on the workbench.

"Wow," I gasp, picking up the replicas and pointing them at an imaginary enemy in front of me. "Nicely done... For an amateur."

Rose looks at me with a scowl, taking the guns from me.

"I've been a blacksmith for the past eight and a half years," she growls at me, grabbing some engraving tools from the open toolbox on her workbench. "Never before has anyone dared describe me as an amateur."

Looking over her shoulder, I watch as she prints the name _Ember_ onto the silver Desert Eagle, and _Spark_ onto the black one.

"So, is there any difference between your guns and mine?" I ask once she finishes, making her jump when she realizes just how close I am. "Other than their names, I mean."

"Yes, but explaining it would give you a migraine," she chides, picking up her tailcoat, holstering her guns, throwing the ensemble over her shoulder as she walks to the door. "So, why don't we go hunt for some demons?"

We walk around aimlessly outside for a while, neither of us feeling the need to strike up a conversation. Incidentally, we end up at the opposite end of the street from where my shop is before Rose stops in her tracks.

"The demons that were in my room... They have a leader," she admits sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. "That's why they left without putting up a fight."

"Who's their leader?" I ask, a fleeting guess as to who it might be already coming to mind.

"I have no idea. I've never seen his face."

"How do you know-?"

"Because I've heard him speak before," Rose snaps, cutting me off with an edge of anger and discomfort. "Only once, mind you."

"Rose, if there's anything else you know about this guy, please tell me," I whisper firmly.

In the blink of an eye, she whips her tailcoat up in an arcing semi-circle, Ember and Spark falling from their holsters in the process. Her arms slip flawlessly through the sleeves, and a heartbeat later, her guns practically fall right into her hands. I notice with a jolt of alarm that her expression is tense, afraid.

"He's here."


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Rose's P.O.V.**

The demons are surrounding Dante and I, cutting off every possible exit, save for one; up. Crouching low, I gather every shred of power I can from my arm and leap into the air, wings of white flame roaring to life behind me, allowing me to remain airborne. I hear a whistle of approval from below, making my cheeks flush dark red. I hide my demon arm once again with an illusion spell. I've used it ever since I can remember to avoid any unfriendly attention.

"Their leader is here," I shout down at Dante, watching from the corner of my eye as he lazily turns every demon that leaps at him into mincemeat. "If I take him out they should scatter."

Dante hollers something up at me, but the screeching of more demons arriving onto the scene drowns him out. I wait for him to speak again with no such luck. I fly from one rooftop to another, shooting at the occasional demon that manages to escape the carnage raging in the street below. I'm roughly fifty meters away from the roof of Devil May Cry when I hear Dante's voice ring clearly, panic latched firmly to every word.

"ROSE, IT'S A TRAP!"

His warning comes late as the crack of a whip shreds the air and hard, braided leather rakes a deep, diagonal gash down the center of my chest. Blood immediately begins to pour from the wound while my screech of agony is the only sound to be heard. My vision is darkening just as quickly as I'm losing altitude, my fiery wings having been dispelled. A blurry figure dressed in varying shades of blue stands before me as I hit the ground, his vaguely familiar nasal voice drawling out intangible words. A flash of red clashes with the blue, and two male voices start arguing about some controversial topic.

My body feels unbearably heavy right now, and I have a very strong urge to close my eyes and sleep it off. However, some small part of my consciousness tells me that's not a good thing to do at the moment. Hearing the faint sound of gunshots, I try to focus my vision on a pair of slender figures rapidly approaching. One is wearing black, the other clad in white. As the woman in black picks me up, muttering words of reassurance, I laugh to myself, not even remembering what it was I found to be so funny.

What feels like a minute later, my ears pick up three hushed voices. Nothing of what they're saying makes any sense to me. This is mostly because my brain is just now telling me I've got a major headache, which only further scrambles my thoughts. I'm almost certain, though, that I just heard two of the voices mumble something like a goodbye and the sound of a door opening and closing again. I attempt to push myself up to confirm this, but my arms refuse to move when I will them to. When I try moving the rest of my body, my chest seizes up in agony and I wince. My entire body feels like it's been raked by millions of razor-sharp blades. Cautiously, I open my eyes.

Thankfully, the amount of light in the room is just enough to make out a face in front of me but not enough to hurt my eyes. I come to realize that I'm in someone's bedroom, in their bed, though I'm still wearing my clothes, with the exception of my tailcoat. As white hair comes into focus, I recognize with a surge of terror the face of the man in the blue tailcoat. I scream at the top of my lungs, ignoring the searing pain as I try to get away from the man in blue. He reaches out to me, grabbing my shoulder firmly with one hand, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he thrusts his katana straight through my chest. Though he doesn't open his mouth to speak, a voice shouts at me, comfortingly familiar. Blinking rapidly, the man in the blue tailcoat disappears, replaced by a similar man, clad instead in a red tailcoat. While I struggle to remember who this man is, he seems to catch on that I've come out of my trance and relief washes over his chiseled features. Well-groomed white hair falls messily down his face, not quite covering his icy blue eyes. Along his firm jaw, there's the slightest hint of stubble which pulls it all together, making him look very-. No, extremely sexy. My demon flutters in strong agreement at this realization. Suddenly, my brain shoves a name to me, bringing back a small portion of what I'm assuming to be lost memory.

"Dante," I whimper, my arms pathetically weak as I lift a hand to his face, trying to reassure myself that I'm not dreaming. "What happened?"

"I scared away the asshole that tried to kill you," Dante replies calmly, though I can tell something about what he just said is scraping raw nerves. "I can promise you he won't be coming back for a while."

"How long has it been since the demons attacked us?" I press on, relieved that my body is once again able to obey me without question. "And did you figure out who the guy was?"

"You've been out cold for two days," he whispers, ruffling my hair playfully and getting out of the bed to walk away. "And the guy that tried to kill you was my brother, Vergil."

He sits down in the chair beside the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers thoughtfully.

"He didn't have the Yamato, though, which is weird."

"That's because it was broken by the last person he tried to kill with it," I growl, lowering my gaze to the floor as I lift the right corner of my black crop top.

In the dim light, Dante has to come very close to be able to see exactly what it is I'm trying to show him. So close, in fact, that I can feel his breath against my skin. I tense up when he touches the scar that was left by Vergil's katana on the night he first tried to murder me. He'd gotten the surprise of his life when my demon took over, broke Yamato, and then made a shot at killing him, but to no avail.

"How did you get a scar like this in the first place?" Dante puzzles, tracing around the mark with fascination. "I mean, you are a half demon like me, so... It should heal without a trace, right?"

"Normally, yes," I sigh. "But it simply wouldn't heal over, no matter what I tried. I was forced to seal it using a white-hot knife."

I yelp in surprise when his lips kiss my scar gently and I reflexively lock my hands into his hair, trying to pull him away. This only seems to egg him on, for the next thing I know, he's pushing me down onto the bed again, trailing kisses down my chest to my stomach. He stops at my bellybutton and comes back up to my now cherry red face, smiling in triumph.

"Are you mine yet?" Dante purrs.

"Fuck you, Dante," I groan, rolling over and burying my face into the pillow.

"The offer's still on the bed, babe."

I feel his hands grasping my hips firmly and pulling them up to meet his own. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction when he grinds his waist against mine. Even through the fabric of our clothes, his morning wood is hitting a very sensitive spot, and it's all I can do to keep my demon from tackling him. Still gripping the pillow, I sit up and turn around. Unfortunately, he reads my movements and easily deflects my pillow attack before I've even come close to hitting him. Nonetheless, I keep trying to hit him. After countless attempts, my success is hard won, and I hear the satisfying _FWAP!_ as it connects with his face. The shocked expression he gives me is enough to throw me into a fit of laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Dante's P.O.V.**

While Rose is laughing hysterically, I snatch up the spare pillow I keep next to the bed and whack her in the stomach, causing her to fall backwards onto the bed. Before she can launch a counterattack, I leap out of her reach, racing out of my bedroom and down the stairs. No sooner than I turn around does she literally come flying at me, letting loose with a playful battle cry, pillow in hand as though it were a mighty sword. For quite some time, we spar with the pillows, both of us going at it like a real sword fight. We take a short break, standing at opposite sides of the room, panting heavily. As if by telepathic communication, we both throw our pillows at each other and they collide in mid-air. Rose draws Ember and Spark, firing one shot from each. The first causes the pillows the burst into flame, and the second makes for an ear-splitting miniature explosion of burning feathers.

"Those were my best pillows, dammit!" I yell, facepalming. "I don't get paid nearly enough to put up with this shit..."

Walking over to my desk, I happily discover three boxes of pizza, with a note from Lady on the top box, explaining the "missing" fourth box. I shrug and snatch up the first box, opening it up and devouring the first slice hungrily while sitting down in my chair and propping my feet up. A shadow falls over me within a few moments of me taking my usual seat and I look up to see Rose eagerly reaching out for a slice of my pizza. Closing the box, I lift one leg and give a small tap on the next box in the stack.

"If you want some, take your own," I growl warningly, carefully watching as she follows my instructions.

I find myself entranced just watching her sit on my desk while eating pizza. That is until she glances at me, picks up the magazine I had intended to read and smacks me in the face with it. She then tosses the box, of which is now shockingly empty, once again leaning in close to try stealing a slice from the box in my lap. Just to tease her, I lean forward the closer she gets, closing the gap between us. I don't even take my eyes off her when I close the pizza box once again, causing her attention to snap up to me and the near half inch of air separating her face from mine. She stays absolutely stone still for quite a long moment, and when she finally reacts, her face turns a darker shade of red than her tailcoat. It's both hilarious and adorable. I can't help but laugh. What amazes me is the fact that she tries it again, this time with a plan. Once more, I lean in as she approaches, the pizza box in my lap still closed. Rose's green orbs quickly lose focus on her original intention and are now focused on my icy blue stare. With an inch of space left, she stops, her breathing fast and a bit shallow. I can practically hear her pounding heart.

"What's the matter, babe?" I whisper, lightly caressing her cheek. "I don't bite, I promise... Unless you want me to."

"Then bite me, Dante," Rose purrs, smirking.

She need not have said anything more. I quickly pull her off my desk and into my lap, setting the box of half eaten pizza in her former seat. Sitting up properly in my chair gives me the perfect position from which I can best grind against her. Her eyes are wide in shock, her body trembling not in fear, but in anticipation. I don't give her any time to protest, lunging at her neck with near overpowering hunger, kissing and biting fiercely. Rose's first reaction is to grasp a fistful of my hair and pull hard. This only reinforces my determination. When a moan finally escapes her mouth, it's just barely audible. After a minute or two of attacking her neck, I pull away, admiring the masterpiece I've created... Hickeys and bite marks centered on her sensitive spot in a very crude, circular shape.

"You didn't, did you?" Rose pants, her pupils shrinking when I don't gratify her with a response. "Please tell me you didn't..."

"I did exactly what you asked me to, babe," I growl playfully with a wink.

With a newfound vigor, she leaps up from her position on my lap and races into the bathroom, emitting a wail when she looks in the mirror.

"There's no way I'll be able to cover this up!"

"Be careful what you wish for," I snicker mockingly as I pass the bathroom door on my way to the stairs that lead up to my bedroom on the second floor.

"Two can play at this game, Dante," Rose growls, coming out of the bathroom, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and almost dragging me into my bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 _The following chapter is a lemon. This means EXPLICIT SEX. If you're uncomfortable with reading this kind of literature, then skip this chapter, as it has absolutely no effect on the plot. Don't say I didn't warn you, readers!_

 **Rose's P.O.V.**

I quickly walk over to the window in Dante's bedroom, drawing the curtains so the room is almost pitch black. Next, I make a beeline for the bed, slipping out of my tailcoat and letting it drop to the floor before I leap under the shelter of the sheets, making quick work of stripping down to my undergarments. Casting a swift glance at Dante from under the sheets, I feel my face heat up as he rids himself of his own clothes. Now in nothing but his boxers, he meanders over to the bed and I hide away under the sheets once again. He stops right next to the bed and I hear him chuckle.

"I wonder," Dante muses sarcastically, feeling along the surface of the sheets. "Is there a demon in my bed?"

I can't help but snicker.

"No, it can't be a demon," he continues, his hands now having found my waist, making me let out a soft purr. "A kitten, perhaps?"

I mew in confirmation and roll over onto my back as he lifts the corner of the bed sheets, smirking at me. Sitting up on my knees, I slowly approach him, keeping my balance by placing my hands on his chest. One of his eyes has turned completely black and a low, dominant growl rumbles in his throat. Responding in kind, my demon takes control of my body for a moment and gives a soft purr of submission. Quick as lightning, Dante slams his lips into mine, pinning me down against the bed. His already throbbing boner grinds harshly against my pussy, of which is now starting to stain my panties. He forces his tongue into my mouth and explores hungrily, groaning a little when I do the same to him. His hands fumble to remove my bra, feeling up and down my back, making me smile. He pulls back and raises an eyebrow in question, only then noticing the clasp is right in front of him.

"Naughty girl," Dante scolds mockingly, wagging a finger in front of me, his trademark grin plastered on his lips.

In a matter of seconds, my bra is tossed to some unknown location within the room, though I honestly don't care right now. Dante's hands knead my breasts, lips glued to mine, and his hips are bucking against my body. I can feel a tight knot in my stomach whenever his length brushes against my entrance, which is making it increasingly difficult to control my demon. All of it is sending every nerve of my body into a blissful frenzy, and I can't stop the moans tearing from my throat. I've never wanted anything, let alone _anyone_ , so badly in my entire life... It's more than I think I can handle right now.

I push a hand against Dante's chest, attempting to get a break and some fresh air, but he's lost in the heat of the moment. Closing my eyes, I'm just beginning to consider biting his tongue to snap him out of it when everything stops. Opening my eyes, I find myself very confused, if anything at all. The scene before me is... My demon trying to pin Dante's demon down and having no such luck. He finally manages to keep her down and, without any hesitation whatsoever, begins fucking her very hard, ramming his cock into her pussy like a machine on autopilot. A very small part of me wants to look away, but no matter the amount of willpower I summon forth, my eyes refuse to look elsewhere. Even though I consciously know that both of our demons are in complete control of our physical bodies, I feel very aroused just watching Dante's performance in bed. Now I get why the women in town describe him as an animal.

 _Damn those hips can really move!_

"First time having an out-of-body experience, huh?"

Turning to my left, I scream when my eyes set upon Dante's spirit form just casually floating beside me, feet propped up in the air like this was the most normal thing in the world.

"You'll get used to it," he laughs, watching as his demon receives a blowjob from mine, and he points at this. "Have you done this before?"

I give him a stone cold death glare and he holds his hands up in surrender.

"Just curious," he says defensively, deliberately avoiding eye contact. "If it is your first, I must say you're pretty good."

Looking back to what's going on between our demons, I find myself truly panicking now. From what I can tell, though it's mostly just me guessing, Dante's demon is about to cum... and he's gone back to ramming my demon's pussy faster than before.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" I scream in alarm, closing my eyes and returning my spirit form to my body.

I'm instantly met with a multitude of physical pains, but I ignore them as I sit up from my position and forcefully push Dante away from me just in time. He hits the floor with a mighty crash and a grunt, his cum spurting up into the air a moment later. I lay on the bed, panting heavily, curling in on myself and biting my lip against the screaming muscles of my body.

"Aw, come on, babe," he sighs. "I was just getting to the good part."

Grunting with the effort, he stands up and looks at me with confusion, only a trace of visible hurt in his eyes. I take a shaky deep breath and glare at him sternly.

"Dante, unless I tell you otherwise, you pull out from now on, no matter what," I growl, and internally smile when he visibly shrinks a little bit. "Do I make myself clear?"

There's a long moment of silence wherein he patches up his bravado and gives me a cocky grin.

"And if I don't?" he purrs suggestively, walking over to me and cupping my face in his hands.

"If you don't, then no amount of healing will rid your face of my dark red hand print."

His smile widens until it seems to take up his entire face.

"Alright," he whispers, leaning in close to my ear. "On that note... Round two?"

"Come here, you sexy devil," I purr, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of me.


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Third Person P.O.V.**

 _~One month later~_

The young, teenage male walked casually through the streets of the city that neighbored his own, curiously observing the diverse merchandise displayed in the shops that lined either side. A small gust of wind played with his somewhat unkempt white hair, and his black tailcoat luffed out behind him. He reached into a pocket just inside his hoodie and pulled out the address that a mysterious woman in the Order of the Sword had written on a piece of paper for him. For the life of him, he couldn't remember the woman's name, or even what she looked like. Nonetheless, she'd recommended this particular shop that apparently specialized in many things.

"I sure hope this guy can help me," the young male grumbled to himself, his maturing voice a little raspy.

He turned left around a street corner and spotted a shop entitled Rares Repairs on the opposite side of the street. Walking over, he went to push open its front door when he suddenly became very aware of his right arm, hidden to all eyes in a medical sling, the protruding hand covered by a red-and-black glove. His ice blue orbs narrowed in annoyance as he inwardly cursed the damned thing. Shaking his head to clear the thought, he stepped into the shop, a bell above the door jingling with vigor to signal his arrival to the owner. It rang furiously again as the door swung closed behind him. The teen looked around at the walls, upon which were mounted almost every weapon imaginable. From guns and crossbows to swords and shields. In the center of the room stood a workbench with toolboxes, blueprints, gems, and pencils scattered across it. In the far right corner, a table that bore polishing supplies on surface sat to the left of a sharpening lathe.

"Great," the male groaned under his breath, turning around to leave the shop, "Another weapons shop."

"Correction; smithy. Although I do specialize in weapon repair, weapon construction and design, I can also make various jewelry items."

The young male turned back at the sound of the female voice, watching as the woman to whom the voice belonged descended from a staircase he had failed to notice before. She had golden brown hair that was neatly braided and fell down the length of her back. Combat boots made of black leather came halfway up her calves and she wore smoke gray skinny jeans with a black, sleeveless crop top. Her emerald green eyes lingered on the insignia sewn onto the shoulders of his tailcoat.

"I take it you're the kid that owns..." she pauses to tap her chin thoughtfully. "Red Queen, I think it was?"

"Yeah," he replied shyly, noticing in the faint blue glow from his right arm was pulsating a little. "I take it Credo told you about me."

"Everything save for your name," she answered calmly as she extended her right arm to him, having also noticed the soft glow coming from his arm. "I'm Rose, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Nero," he replied, tensing up a little as she laid her hand on the sling covering his arm.

Rose laughed quietly, not even fazed as blue flame swirled around her right arm, the flesh seeming to melt away. His eyes bulged in awe at the sight. Her right arm was just like his own in the sense that it did not resemble the rest of her body. The tough, outer hide was charcoal black. Her palm and the crevice that snaked halfway up her arm was bright orange like the sunrise. Nero's demon arm glowed a little more brightly than before, and hers flashed bright orange.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one hiding from unfriendly eyes," he sighed in relief, relaxing.

"Likewise," Rose said happily, walking over to her workbench. "So, how can I help you, Nero?"

"Well, uh..." he struggled to find the right words, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to get my girlfriend a necklace, but anything she wants-."

"Is insanely overpriced," Rose finished for him. "Come here and tell me what kind of design you think she'd like."

Nero warily approached while she cleared her usual working implements away and pulled multiple necklace design sketches from a large drawer to his left. She also collected some blank paper and a sharpened pencil, setting them in front of him. He opened his mouth to ask why she gave him these materials, yet he didn't speak a word before she had an answer.

"If you're inspired to make a unique design, feel free to draw it out," she says casually, sitting on a stool across from him. "And if you think you're no good at drawing, try me. I can create a masterpiece from a child's crude scribbling."

Carefully observing each drawing, Nero found himself picking up the pencil and sketching out a simple, winged version of the cancer ribbon he'd so often seen. However, it needed something more... a centerpiece. A gem. When he was finished, he set down the pencil and drew in a shaky breath, hesitating before turning the paper for Rose to see. She looked it over in detail, nodding ever so slightly.

"You've got talent, I'll give you that," he mused, as she looked up from the drawing with an impressed grin.

"How much is it going to cost me?" he asked while he reached into the inner pocket of his tailcoat and pulled out his wallet. "I don't have much, but I promise I can pay you the difference-."

"Nero, put your wallet away. I don't want to see that in my shop again."

He looked up at Rose, absolutely stunned and confused.

"W-what...?" he stammered, doing as she told him to.

"I never accept cash payments unless I need to use up my own supplies to make an order for a customer," she grumbled sternly, her green stare completely serious while she pointed to his drawing. "For this, all I need from you is something to make it out of... If not, it's no trouble. I won't charge you for it, considering this is your first visit."

Nero instinctively reached for the pendant around his neck that was tucked under his shirt, out of sight. He'd had it for as long as he could remember, though he had no clue whose it was originally. Taking a moment to consider the ups and downs, he finally tore the amulet from his neck and held it out to Rose. He looked at its golden frame and the soft pink gemstone within it one last time before letting it drop into her hand.

She set to work immediately, separating the two parts of the amulet and molding the frame into the shape that Nero had drawn. Once the body of the new necklace had cooled enough, Rose trimmed the gem down to the perfect size, sliding it into place between the folds of the pendant with a soft click. She walked over to a small bureau with various boxes showcased inside it. The box she pulled out was long, rectangular and was a beautiful shade of blue with gold trimming, and pulled together with a sky-blue ribbon. She placed the necklace inside and handed it to Nero, of whom was just now noticing the time. He very quickly thanked her and raced out the door, screaming, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!"

Rose sighed with a chuckle, hands on her hips as she shook her head.

"Young love... It's truly a beautiful thing."

She turned on her heel and walked upstairs for a moment to grab her red tailcoat before coming back down to lock up and set off for Devil May Cry.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Rose's P.O.V.**

Walking into Dante's shop, yawning loudly and stretching to catch said half demon's attention, I observe him flipping through a phone book with a newspaper splayed out underneath its pages.

"You're late... Again," he grumbles, returning to his intensive search.

"Not my fault," I snap lazily, sitting in his chair and propping my feet up on his desk. "I had a customer to deal with. So, what are you up to?"

"Lady was talking to me about some cult called the Order of the Sword," Dante sighs, staring at a particular address for a few moments before closing the phone book. "They've been poking their noses where they don't belong, and now I've gotta do something about it."

"Can I-?"

"No."

He looks at me with a decisive glare in his ice blue eyes, making my heart give a painful throb. It must have shown on my face, because he walks over to me and ruffles my hair. I try to grab a hold on him as he turns to leave, but he walks away quickly.

"I'm sorry, Rose, but I can't take you with me," he whispers, picking up Rebellion on the way to the front door of the shop. "It's too dangerous."

"What if Vergil comes back?" I whimper, stopping him halfway out the door. "What do I do then, Dante?"

"He won't come back, Rose," he says flatly, not even looking at me as I come to stand just behind him.

"How do you know for sure?"

Dante sighs heavily with a slight shake of his head.

"I don't. But if he knows what's good for him, he'll stay far away from you."

There's a long silence as he walks down the front steps, leaving me standing in the doorway.

"But what if he does come back?" I call after him, my heart aching just watching him walk farther down the street.

"Then I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch!" Dante yells angrily, making me giggle a little bit.

I watch him walk away, feeling a smirk tug at my lips. I may have been living here at Devil May Cry for about a month now, but I can never get used to watching him leave. The view is absolutely amazing. If only he knew the main reason why women would faint after he left. Walking back into the office, I sit back down in his chair with my feet propped up on his desk. Now I can see why he does this so often; I feel like I practically own the place! The phone rings about twenty minutes later, and I pick up, enjoying a brief chat with Lady on the other end. She'd been hoping to stop by and collect any money that Dante might have stashed away. When I tell her where he's gone, she merely laughs, bids me good day, and then hangs up.

Looking at my watch, I notice an hour has passed since Dante has left, and I now have the urge to start following him. Making sure Ember and Spark are in their holsters, I walk out of the shop, only taking a slight detour to stop by my place, carefully selecting a double-edged longsword before continuing on my way. After a good half hour of following his scent, I find myself getting hopelessly lost. That is, until an entire mob of screaming people dressed in odd robes scrambled out of a church close by, some of the women shrieking about a man in a red coat. This wasn't the usual fangirl shrieking that I had learned to ignore. It was most definitely produced by the emotion that only humans can so perfectly display; fear. There was no question about it, he was in that church.

 _Dante... in a church?_ I think to myself. _That's begging for trouble._

Cautiously walking up to the entrance, I peek in and immediately spot Dante standing on the arm of a statue of his father, Sparda. Opposite him, on the other arm was... Nero. They had each other at gunpoint, neither of them moving a muscle. A female voice calls out to Nero from somewhere inside the church, and he responds by snapping at her to get out of there with her brother. Another voice, male this time, shouted something up at him before emerging into daylight. Quickly whisking myself out of sight, I felt my heart begin pounding as I recognize Credo and his sister, Kyrie. Almost directly behind them, half a dozen troops marched out, carrying an old man clad in priestly robes. He'd been shot in the head, right in between his eyebrows. As soon as I look back into the church, I hear gunshots echoing throughout the chapel, and I become entranced by the fight that plays out between Nero and Dante.

Keeping out of sight, I sneak inside to get a better view, my footsteps unheard, and my presence hopefully unnoticed. I creep behind a nearby pillar, glancing over at the scene to see Nero standing alone, an old fashioned double barrel revolver pointed in my general direction. Footsteps break the dead silence as Dante meanders out from behind the statue of his father, his back turned to his opponent.

"I guess this doesn't quite cut it," Nero chuckles, holstering his revolver and kicking up a sword on the ground, revving the handle on the hilt as he turns on his heel to face Dante and jabs the point of the blade onto the marble flooring.

"What's the point of packin' a sword like that if you aren't even gonna use it?" Nero snaps.

Dante lifts Rebellion off his shoulder and examines it before holding it in the same downward position as Nero's sword, flicking his wrist twice in challenge. He gives Nero his trademark smirk, which tips his patience over the edge. The younger male lets out a yell of frustrated determination and charges at Dante, though to my surprise, his actions aren't reckless, which means he's at least somewhat aware of his opponent's attempts to provoke him. They clash swords for a while, and I can't help but notice during this time that something's just not right with Dante. Every once in a while, he'll just stand there and wait until he's attacked.

 _He's holding back..._

Finally, the sword that Nero is wielding is sent flying out of his grasp, and Dante lunges forward, Rebellion aimed at his opponent's chest. I look away, unable to bear witnessing the brutal, screaming death to come. I'm somewhat stunned when the air around me blasts my ears with nothing but the clattering of pews being scattered about the room. Very tentatively, I look back to the where the boys now stand, with about a meter of space between each other. Nero's medical sling has been completely obliterated, revealing his demon arm with the tip of Rebellion's blade embedded into the blue crevice.

"Hm. You got a trick up your sleeve," Dante grumbles, not moving from his position, further confirming that he's deliberately holding back.

"I thought the cat had your tongue," Nero quips. "But if it's a trick you're looking for... then try this!"

Dante is once again tossed across the room, landing somewhat awkwardly on his feet as he straightens up.

"Looks like you too, are a-."

He stops once he looks back to where his opponent stands. With a heave of determination, using his demon arm, Nero lifts the massive blade once held by the statue of Sparda and chucks it at Dante in the same manner one might pitch a baseball. I know without a doubt that the experienced demon hunter will easily avoid the stone blade, but even so, I reflexively turn away from the scene, closing my eyes tightly. When I next screw up my courage to keep watching, my eyes lock on Dante flying through the air, having been thrown a second time. As if by miracle alone, he lands seated in a pew, and he crosses one leg over the other, the sound of his blade striking the marble floor once he comes to a complete stop. The very slightest hint of fascination is in his ice blue eyes as he smirks at the younger male, of whom gives an audible _Tch._


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Dante's P.O.V.**

"So you're lookin' to play, huh?" I drawl out halfheartedly, sitting back in the pew as I hold my blade out in front of me in the kid's direction. "Alright, I guess I got some time to kill..."

 _Pun fully intended_ , I think smugly to myself.

"Tough guy, huh?" the kid says, picking up the sword I'd knocked from his hand earlier, turning his back on me. "Well..."

With a loud _Hyup,_ he kicks a stray pew straight at me. I stand from my less-than-comfy seat and leap into the air, clashing blades with him before landing where he had stood a few moments before. My eyes catch a glimpse of Rose peering out at me from behind a pillar. Hearing the heavy clunking of more pews behind me, I only have enough time to give her a scolding glare, hoping she gets the message. When I turn back to the kid, I scoff quietly. He's precariously balanced himself in the very top seat of a pew mountain, his sword draped over his shoulder in the same way I'm holding Rebellion.

"I think I'll have to take you down a couple notches," he says with a small grin.

"Whatever you say, kid," I grumble up at him.

He scoffs while he leaps from his seat and lands directly in front of me, drawing his right arm back. As he thrusts forward with a right hook, I block with the flat side of Rebellion. The force of his punch sends me flying across the church cathedral for the third time. Next thing I know, he's got me pinned to the ground - so he thinks - his human hand gripping a fistful of my hair so he doesn't miss a beat while he delivers one punch after another to my jaw. It doesn't really hurt all that much, but it sure as hell is starting to piss me off. I have a momentary struggle with my demon, but I manage to keep him down, even though one of my arms flickers dangerously from demon to human several times. Thankfully, the punching stops as the kid grabs me by the collar of my shirt, drags me in a full circle, and then biffs me at the statue of my father. My back hits the stone quite hard, knocking the breath out of me and making my vision flash red for a brief moment. Before gravity can even reach out to my body and pull it down, Rebellion is driven straight through my chest, pinning me to the statue like Jesus to the cross.

 _Alright_ , I think to myself with a sharp exhale, letting myself fall limply over my blade, giving the appearance of being dead. _I think it's high_ _time I plant some seeds of doubt in the kid's head._

As the kid turns around, having technically both lost and won our little "friendly sparring match", I take as deep a breath as I can, considering my own sword is embedded in my chest.

"Getting better," I rasp out, making him turn on his heel, mouth agape and at a loss for words. "I would even go as far as to say that I underestimated your..." I push myself forward, freeing my blade from the statue as I jump down onto solid ground again. "Abilities."

"You aren't human, are you?" the kid says hesitantly, though it comes out as more of a statement than a question.

"We're the same," I explain, panting heavily as I draw my sword from my chest. "You and... I."

I rest the point of my sword against the marble flooring, gesturing with one hand to the masked demons that I had dispatched of earlier.

"And them."

While the kid has his back turned to me, I take a standing leap straight up into the air, sitting on the edge of the pane of stained glass I broke through when I first arrived.

"Though I suspect you carry something different from the others," I continue bluntly, slightly amused by his shocked and confused expression when he looks up at me.

"What are you talking about?" he demands, frustrated.

"You will come to learn the meaning soon enough," I answer vaguely, standing up and turning to leave. "But... business beckons."

I've taken no more than one step out of his sight when I hear the kid shout after me, firing a shot from his double barrel revolver to further catch my attention. Leaning over the edge, I give him a sarcastic two-finger salute.

"Adios, kid."

I leap down from the chapel roof, my demon instantly picking up Rose's scent, which I waste no time in following. When I do find her, she's holding herself in a protective manner, avoiding eye contact. I can literally see the guilt written out in her body language, which settles most of my anger and irritation. My eyes linger on the double-edged longsword strapped to her back, which made her look even more like me than when I first met her about a month ago. In all honesty, it suited her, but it still kinda pissed my off that someone was trying to copy my style... Even if it was an extremely hot babe.

"Let's hear it," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I was worried about you," she stammers, her voice quivering.

"And you couldn't wait at the shop and worry about me there?" I press on, keeping my voice calm and low.

Rose opens her mouth to reply when her right arm glows bright red. I may only know very little about her so far, but if there's one thing I _do_ know, that means trouble. She takes off at an all-out sprint back in the direction of her shop, cursing like a sailor. I run beside her, curious as to what exactly it is that's causing this reaction from her. My question is answered when we turn a corner, her shop coming into view. The guy I'd been about to kill before the kid put a stop to me is standing in front of Rose's shop, accompanied by his sister. He spots us immediately and I draw Rebellion, not breaking stride when Rose scolds me and grabs on to my tailcoat as I pick up my pace. I'm just within striking distance when Rose kicks off my back and swings around to my front side, which causes me to spin on my heel and fall backwards. The instant I hit the ground, she drives her double edged longsword through my chest and then she leaves me there to go and casually greet both of her guests.

""I's _so_ sorry about him," Rose apologizes to them while I slowly get up, her sword still embedded in my chest.

"What is it with people impaling me with swords and tossing me around like a rag doll?" I ask loudly, feeling a sharp stab of irritation when all three of them enter Rose's shop without so much as a glance in my direction.


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Rose's P.O.V.**

Closing the door behind me, I make absolute sure to lock it, giving Dante a disapproving scowl through the window as he glares at Credo, of whom does the same. Walking over to the storage closet at the bottom of the stairs, I heave out the large case engraved with the insignia for the Order of the Sword.

"She's good as new, Credo," I huff, handing the case off to him. "Make sure Nero takes good care of her this time."

"How do you know him by name?" he demands, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "As I recall, I never mentioned it last we spoke."

"He stopped by an hour or so ago," I explain, looking to Kyrie and smiling at her when she stares at me, seeming to ask a silent question with her hazel orbs. "Said he needed something for a... Special someone."

"No matter," Credo huffs, pulling at least twenty grand in wads of hundred dollar bills from a pocket inside his jacket. "Don't object to this, just take it."

He hands me the money, promptly gives the case with Red Queen in it to his sister, unlocks the front door of my shop, and holds it open for her while she drags the case out. Following after them, I draw Ember and Spark from their holsters, just in case Dante decides to cause any more trouble. Fortunately, he's nowhere in sigh, but my heart gives a few painful beats all the same. I watch Credo and Kyrie until they're out of sight before walking back into my shop, locking the door behind me. Slumping back against the door, I hold my form protectively while it begins to tremble.

 _I can't let myself fall for him_ , I scold myself, holding back the urge to stomp into Devil May Cry and leave my bright red hand print on his face. _He's nothing but a playboy._

 _Then what do you call what happened last month?_ my demon snaps at me with an accusing tone in her voice.

"Fucking hormones!" I scream, slamming my open palm back against the door, unaware of the concerned icy-blue gaze of said playboy watching me from across the street as I march upstairs to my room.

Once I'm in my private living space, I sit down on the velvet couch in the center of the room, burying my head in my hands. Despite the overwhelming urge, I refuse to let myself cry, gasping fistfuls of my hair in a solid grip and pulling fiercely. I'm startled when there's a soft knock on the window across the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the red jacket and instantly get up, crossing the distance in three strides. Not even looking up at him, I pull the curtains across the window and storm into my bedroom. Dante's just arriving at my bedroom window as I reach up to pull the blinds down. He points to the latch and gives me that "we-need-to-talk" look. I respond in kind and give him a stone-cold "get-the-fuck-outta-here" glare while pulling the blinds down. I hear his displeased growl through the window and wait a minute before daring to check. To my relief, there's no sign of him. My heart stops dead when he swings down from the roof with his feet pointed directly at my window. With absolutely no time left to react, I end up pinned in a mess of broken glass, Dante straddling my waist and holding both my wrists down above my head with just one hand. He's wearing that trademark smirk on his lips, and I can't help but want to wipe it clean off his face right now.

"What do you want, Dante?" I grumble, looking away to hide the blush that's creeping onto my cheeks.

"We need to talk," he answers simply, leaning into my ear and nibbling it teasingly, making me whimper. "I can't have you following me around on this job like a lost kitten, Rose."

"I'm my own person, so I can do whatever I damn well please," I snap at him, flinching when he gives me a glare that makes my eyes tear up. "And that includes looking out for you, Dante..."

"Rose, I'm not going to argue with you about this," he growls threateningly, his expression unreadable.

I'm just about to come up with a savage reply when he cuts me off, crashing his lips into mine in a heated, lustful kiss. Having no will to pull away, I tangle my hands up into his silken white locks, trying to move my lips in time with his as he picks up the pace. He stops after a while, earning a displeased whine from me.

"Feeling needy, are we now?" he whispers huskily, moving down to my neck and trailing light kisses from my sweet spot up to my lips again.

"N-no," I lie, refusing to look him in the eyes.

"You're a horrible liar."

"Shut up!"

Without warning, he springs away from me, doing a flip in mid-air, and lands on the window pane, giving me a wink before he jumps and disappears without a trace. Left to my devices, I get up and walk downstairs to start making some weapons for my own personal use. Without anyone around to remind me of the time, I find myself working late into the evening and surrounded by at least a dozen weapons.

 _Might as well face it, Rose_ , my demon jeers quietly in a sing-song voice. _You're smitten for him. You just don't wanna admit it to yourself._

"Fuck~!" I groan, letting my head fall heavily onto my workbench. "I always hate it when you're right."


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Third Person P.O.V. (Nero)**

After facing off with Berial, Nero sighed and placed his hands on his hips as he observed the smoldering remains of the abandoned mining village. He wondered to himself what exactly the fiery demon had meant by his last comment directed at the young swordsman.

 _You are just like he was._

With the comment having been so vague, _he_ could be any number of people, but in that moment, Nero thought back to the mysterious man in the red tailcoat. He had left the young male with a comment that was equally puzzling.

 _Though I suspect you carry something different from the others._

"I'm a demon," the male growled to himself, clenching his right hand into a fist and glaring disdainfully at his accursed arm. "That much is clear."

Nero's thoughts wandered painfully towards his girlfriend, Kyrie. He feared her reaction if she were to find out. Would she leave him? Tell Credo? God forbid if he ever beheld the truth. All the young swordsman could do was hope for the best. He loved Kyrie more deeply than mere words could describe, and if he were to lose her... It would kill him inside. He refused to let himself imagine life without her, yet the idea still plagued him all the same.

Forcing the thought out of his head, he set out once again to continue his mission; go to Fortuna Castle and capture the man in the red tailcoat. However, he hesitated for a moment. There was something Nero had just remembered about the older man's demeanor that scraped his nerves raw. During their first encounter in the Opera House, Nero had been giving everything he had, whereas his opponent had seemed to be deriving some sort of twisted pleasure from it all. Like he was toying with him. Nero shook it off as him just being overly observant and resumed walking.

~Time Skip~

Continuing along the bridge up to the front entrance of Fortuna Castle after meeting Gloria, Nero couldn't help but wonder if she was actually with the Order of the Sword. Granted, there were some officials he'd never met in person before, but at the very least Credo cared enough to validate their existence to his young subordinate. Gloria, though... Nero had never seen or heard anything about her. The fact that she'd openly admitted she was new made him even more suspicious. Furthermore, her arrival was during a time that the Order was in a crisis was oddly well timed, to say the least. Which meant that she was all the more likely to be a mole. This was all so confusing to him, and it reinforced his determination to get this mission over with so he could put it as far behind him as possible.

As he entered Fortuna Castle, Nero became acutely aware of a pair of eyes locked on him. Suppressing a shudder, he shrugged off the sensation, and as a cold blast of air rushed past him into Fortuna, he felt the unease leave him and gave a contented sigh. When the heavy wooden door closed behind him, there was a certain tension in the air that he recognized all too well.

"Just my luck," Nero grumbled with a hint of frustration as the reek of demons approaching filled his senses. "Will these blockheads never learn?"

Revving the hilt of Red Queen while she was still strapped to his back, the young male smirked as he watched a couple dozen Mephisto emerge from the shadows of the grand hall, led by a single Faust. He braced himself as they charged towards him, feeling the adrenaline rush.

"Let's roll!"

 **Author's Note**

I'm very sorry that this chapter is so much shorter than the others, but I just needed to include it to make sure nobody forgot that Nero's an important part of this fanfic as well, especially concerning much later chapters involving Rose and a certain other white-haired half demon. Who is it, you ask? Here's a hint; he's thought to be "dead".

Anyway, please be patient with regards to updates on this and other fanfics I'm working on. Exams start two weeks from now, which will require my full attention. I will resume updating once exams are over, then everyone will be happy.

Until the next chapter, readers! 3


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Dante's P.O.V.**

Waiting for the kid to show up is even more boring than sitting around my office at Devil May Cry in anticipation of a phone call with a decent-paying job awaiting me on the other end. Thinking back to yesterday afternoon, I feel a pang of regret. I had left Rose alone at her blacksmithing shop, and now that I really put some careful thought into it, I probably should have taken her with me. Especially considering how far this place is from home. However, there's no time to go back and get her. Besides, she would most likely slap me for having left her after getting her aroused like that. How am I supposed to tell her the effect she has on me?

"Babe, I'm the detective, and you're the scene of the crime," I mutter to myself. "It's my personal job to investigate thoroughly."

Closing my eyes, I can accurately picture her angry scowl, and I can even feel the outline of her hand print on my cheek.

 _Damn it,_ I inwardly scold myself. _I can't let my hormones get the better of me like this._

 _What if it's more than hormones, though?_ my demon asks quietly, as if he already knows something that I don't.

I open my eyes, resting my head back against the wall I'm leaning on as I review that question. The day I met Rose, she'd broken into my shop while I was out and managed to render the entire place much more of a mess than it already was in less than ten minutes. On top of that, upon my return, she wasn't even fazed when I started flirting with her. In fact, she'd even hit me with a few smart quips of her own. I'm not sure how, but in that first day, she'd gone from being a potential threat to my business to being a smoking hot babe that lives with me, as difficult as that is to believe. During the entire month she's been living with me, she's done nothing but smile and get my demon riled up. There were several occasions when she would take a shit job for me and, more often than not, would return with double the amount of money originally promised. Having Rose around has been more of a blessing than I could have ever expected. Even so, there is a nagging part of me that's warning me not to give in, that it's too good to be true. The risk of her turning against me is still there.

My thoughts are interrupted when my demon picks up on a handful of Scarecrows in the room, earning a low growl from me.

"Sneaking up on a guy like that ain't very nice," I chuckle, pulling Rebellion off my back with one hand and drawing Ivory with the other.

As per usual, the pathetic weaklings present no challenge to me. If anything, they serve as a way to distract me from any thoughts of Rose.

 _"Dante!"_

With Rebellion in mid-swing, I whip my gaze around the room, my demon also scanning the room for her demon's presence. Mind you, this only took a couple of heartbeats, but in this time, the Scarecrow I was about to kill is able to take a swing at me with its blade-bearing arm. I leap back just in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding a nasty face makeover, though I do sacrifice a minuscule strand of my hair. I finish the Scarecrow off with a barrage of bullets from Ivory. Holstering my gun and securing Rebellion to my back, I stand completely still, closing my eyes and letting my demons senses reach out to every corner of the spacious room. I believe I heard some of the higher-ups from the order referring to it as the Ascension Chamber.

Once again, the only soul in the room is myself, the bodies of the demons I killed dissolving in a small cloud of smoke. Sauntering over to one of the four pillars that held up a platform-like slab above a raised section of the floor, I lean up against it, sighing heavily.

My biggest concern is how I was so easily fooled into thinking Rose was actually here, and moreover that she could have possibly been in danger. Maybe I'm-.

 _There's no guessing anymore, you moron,_ my demon growls at me. _You're falling for her._

"She's just another woman," I snap out loud. "She just happens to be a half demon instead of a human."

 _Listen to what you're saying, you self-centered fuck! It's no wonder you have such a horrible reputation with women._

I open my mouth to reply when a few dozen memories come flooding back to me. Each and every one of them depicts a woman whose heart I've left broken. How do I know? They're all in tears, and looking into their eyes leaves me with a stab of regret. The last image is of Rose, but her expression is a little different. Behind the hurt in her emerald orbs burns the fury of her demon. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead of the accusing tone to which I've become immune, her voice is calm and collected, which will make her words sting all the more painfully.

"Why am I not surprised?" she whispers, her every word ripping my heart open. "Now it all makes sense. You're half the demon Sparda was… It's only fitting that you have half the heart he did."

Rose turns on her heel and stops, turning back to face me. She reaches behind her and draws Ember and Spark from their holsters, setting them on the ground at her feet, placing one gun on top of the other. Next, she summons her double-edged longsword, Redgrave, and drives the blade into the floor, impaling both of her guns, rendering them useless. She pulls her sword back out and straps it onto the back of her jacket, turning her back on me as she walks out of Devil May Cry, and out of my life… Forever. The vision ends abruptly, and I have to blink a few times and look around to remind myself of where I am.

 _That's what will happen if you break-._

"If I break her heart," I snap, cutting my demon off. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."

 _No,_ my demon snaps angrily at me. _That's what will happen if you break_ her. _If you break her heart, she will kill you. End of story._

"You know this… How?"

 _She's a half demon, dumbass. Need I say more?_

Right Forgot about that.

The door to the Ascension Chamber opens and slams shut again, snapping me out of my thoughts. I hear the kid's breath hitch and he stops in his tracks.

"What took you so long?" I ask casually, lightly kicking off from the pillar I'm leaning against.

"You… What are you doing here?" he growls, a sharper than usual tone of anger in his raspy voice. "Forget it, I don't have time for this."

Avoiding any further eye contact, the kid keeps walking, shoving past me.

"And neither do I," I reply sternly, putting a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him.

For a heartbeat, he doesn't move a muscle, and then he whips his head around to glare daggers at me. He wastes no time in swinging at my face with a right hook, which I easily avoid. Sidestepping behind him as he whirls around to try again. Once again, I avoid his fist, this time grabbing a firm hold on his wrist.

"So I'll cut to the chase."

The kid's expression grows very infuriated and his mouth curls in a feral snarl, his teeth bared like an animal. He tries to pull his arm out of my grasp while it begins to glow bright blue. Quickly letting go, the kid is sent careening into the wall as a result of my unexpected release of his arm.

 _Time to let it out, kid,_ I think to myself.

…

On second thought, maybe saying that isn't such a good idea.

"I'm here for the sword."

 _Much better._


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Rose's P.O.V.**

Standing outside Devil May Cry, I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. Unfortunately for me, Dante locks his shop any time he leaves, whether it be to stop by the Bullseye Bar and Pizzeria or while he's out on a job. Which means I'm stuck out here, exposed to whatever wrath nature might throw my way. Hopefully Lady or Trish come by sometime soon.

I let out a long sigh, sitting down on the front steps and pulling my knees up to rest my head on them. My eyelids have grown very heavy over the past few minutes, but just before they close, my demon surges up in alarm, jolting me awake. My vision sharpens drastically as my demon scans the entire street for any sign of life, only finding a suspicious-looking shadowed corner to my left. Letting out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, I hang my head with a groan. Just then, I catch movement from the corner of my eye and I whip my gaze back to the shadowed corner, now fully alert.

My demon is wailing in distress, urging me to get up and run for my life without looking back. For quite a while, I stare into the darkness, trying to find some indication of life within it, until the scar a hand's width below my heart begins to feel like it's burning. That sensation alone is enough to fully terrify my demon, and the outburst of a powerful aura as the shadows reveal the silhouette of a man is what gets me on my feet. Racing up the street in the direction of civilization, I hop to escape the man of whom I know has come to finish what he started six years ago.

"Foolish as ever, I see," his voice grumbles almost directly behind me. "Best fix that kind of behavior immediately, Miss Jay."

There's no time for me to react as braided rope wraps around my ankles and I fall forward onto the cold pavement. My horrible luck kicks in as my head scrapes against a rather sharp piece of gravel. Within moments, I can feel a steady trickle of a thick, warm liquid running down the side of my face. Blood, and a lot of it. My strength is quickly fading, which means I'm powerless to resist when my enemy lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder.

"Damn you, Vergil," I growl at him as he begins to walk away from Devil May Cry. "You won't get away with this... Dante will kill you for-."

"Your precious Dante has forgotten you, Rose," Vergil snaps coldly. "You were just another flower to be adored and thrown away."

No, he has to be lying. Out of sheer panic, I shriek Dante's name, ending in sobs as my wrists are tightly bound. My heart slams painfully in my rib cage, reinforcing my determination to fill the streets with my plea for help... Desperately willing for someone, anyone, to put a stop to this power-hungry man. Vergil rapidly becomes irritated by this. Setting me down, he puts a firm hand on my shoulder and delivers a vicious kick to my stomach.

"Save your breath, stupid woman," he scolds, harshly grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. "I strongly suggest you follow my advice. Or would you prefer I kill you here and now?"

As I'm once again hoisted up over Vergil's shoulder, the familiarity of my surroundings blurs into confusion under a veil of tears. What if he _is_ right? What if I was being played the fool this whole time?

 _No_ , I think despairingly to myself. _Dante will come and rescue me any second now... He has to... He promised._

Closing my eyes, I pray to God that I might live to see Dante's face, run my fingers through his hair, and kiss those needy lips of his... Just one more time.

* * *

"Rose!"

Cowering low in the shelter of the tub in Vergil's rich-guy styled bathroom, I wince at the angry tone of his voice. My left hand begins to throb painfully, reminding me of what feels like millions of pieces of metal shrapnel embedded in the palm, and it certainly doesn't help that my other hand is shaking incessantly. Hearing Vergil's footfalls thumping rapidly up the stairs and down the hallway in the direction of the bathroom persuades me to pick up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide next to me and pour its contents onto the palm of my still bleeding left hand. The stinging pain is enough to make me whimper in discomfort as the raw flesh begins to fizzle like a soft drink. In an instant, the door to the bathroom slams open and a shadow looms over me. The next thing I know, I'm being pulled out of the tub in a fit of agonized screaming. He drags me downstairs to my makeshift workstation in the living room.

"Get back to work!" Vergil snaps at me, forcefully sitting me down on the floor in front of my supplies that I'd requested he retrieve. "You will not last long if you keep slacking off like this. You may rest _after_ you've finished forging my weapon."

"If I can't get a proper bandage for my hand, you won't have a weapon at all," I retort, shrinking back when he gives me a reprimanding glare. "Believe what you will, but I want to get this over with just as much as you do. But to make that happen, I need both of my hands to do it."

For quite some time, Vergil doesn't even budge. When he does finally take action, he grabs my left wrist and gives me a warning growl when I try to pull away from him. Reluctantly, I let him examine the burned flesh of my palm which, thanks to my demon, is slowly beginning to heal. He then releases my wrist and walks swiftly upstairs, returning less than a minute later with a roll of bandages in one hand, a pair of tweezers and some alcohol swabs in the other.

"Hold out your hand," Vergil instructs firmly, though his demeanor is gentle, which is concerning. "And keep it still."

Following his direction, I hold out my injured hand, somewhat shocked as he sits on the floor in front of me. In the blink of an eye, he's taken the roll of bandages and used it to bind my wrist to his leg as he works at removing every last microscopic shard of metal from my palm with the tweezers. He only stops to wipe away any blood that seeps out from the flesh that has once again been made raw, which makes me squirm and mewl in protest against the stinging. After he's finally removed every scrap of metal shrapnel, he uses the last of the alcohol wipes to clean away any remaining blood. Next, he unties my wrist and wraps the bandages around the now uninfected wound, and I'm left staring at him in disbelief as he stands, orders me to resume my work, and then leaves me to my own devices.


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any of the characters in Devil May Cry, all rights to those characters belong to Capcom. The only parts of this story I own are my character, Rose Jay, and the plot. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction; it is solely intended for your reading pleasure.

 **Dante's P.O.V.**

"Hey, Dante! Will we meet again?"

Holding back an irritated groan, I give Nero a final two-finger salute without breaking stride or turning to face him as I continue walking away. With the so-called _Savior_ now defeated, I can go back to my shop, kick up my feet, and return to business as usual. My first task at the moment, however, is to find a restaurant that serves decent pizza. To my feet, it seems as though I've walked an entire marathon before I'm finally able to sit down at the counter of a cool place named _The Devil's Lair_. The second I open my mouth to ask where the waiter's disappeared to, a blazing hot babe bursts out of a pair of doors behind the counter. She skips over to me with a pen and a small notepad in hand.

"Hello and welcome to The Devil's Lair," she trills happily, "Fortuna's finest foodie fan club. I'm Diana and I'll be your server for this evening. What can I get for you?"

"I'll take a sixteen inch prosciutto with extra cheese, garlic potatoes, _no olives_ , and make it crispy," I answer, watching her scribble it all down on her notepad. "And I'd like to be out of here before sundown, if you don't mind."

"Absolutely, I'll get on your order right away," Diana replies, racing back through the doors that I'm assuming lead to the kitchen.

Turning around to face the meager assembly of customers, I find myself thinking about something that has significant importance to me. But I can't quite pinpoint it, which frustrates me to no end. It doesn't concern any of my debts to Lady or else I'd be taking more jobs and making an honest effort to earn some more money. Not that I'd actually want to pay her, anyway. I can't think of anything else that it could be, which just infuriates me even further. The sound of a plate being set down on the counter behind me and the familiar, mouthwatering scent of my favorite food drags my thoughts back to the present. Swiveling around in my seat, I find that my order has been rendered in absolute perfection... All brought together by a toothpick in the center with a flag-like piece of paper pierced onto it. Upon closer inspection, I see that Diana's signature has been scribbled on it, including what I'm assuming is her phone number. Looking up, I watch her return into the kitchen with a wink to me. I can't help but chuckle to myself.

"Maybe my luck with women is finally starting to turn around."

* * *

"Is it just me or are you disappearing to get food more often now?"

With my hand on the doorknob, I let out a sigh and reluctantly turn to stand my ground against the disapproving leers of Lady and Trish.

"Well? We're waiting, Dante," Trish urges impatiently.

"Fine, the guilty is charged," I grumble, whipping back around to the door. ""But this demon's still gotta eat-."

"Oh no you don't!" Both women lunge forward, grab me by the shoulders, and drag me over to my chair, forcing me to sit.

"Aw c'mon, babes. I'm hungry!"

"You've got more important things to worry about than food," Lady scolds, holding up a business card in my face. "Remember this, Dante?"

Taking the card, I read it over several times before handing it back to her with a scoff of irritation.

"You tryin' to tell me my weapons aren't sharp enough or something?"

The stunned silence that follows my honest question only tells me that I should have remembered something unbelievably important. To further this, Lady storms up to me and delivers an agonizing left hook to my face. I groan in pain, bringing my hands up to shield my face just in the of chance that she decides to take another swing. Before I can even complain, she starts rambling on about something. Can't tell what it is or if she's even speaking in English because she's talking so fast.

"Could you please start over, except a whole lot slower?" I growl, rubbing my temples as I begin to feel the onset of a headache. "I can't understand a word you're saying, Lady."

"After the defeat of Sanctus and the Savior in Fortuna, an increasing number of people have been on edge," Trish cuts in, giving Lady a chance to regain her composure. "Something far beyond ordinary happened here in Capulet the day before you returned. Unfortunately, nobody knows how or why it happened."

"Well, does anybody at least know where in Capulet?"

"According to thirty-seven witnesses... On your doorstep."

Snapping my attention to Lady, I lean forward and prop my elbows up on my desk, lacing my fingers together and urging her on with a nod.

"Does anyone know _what_ happened and if there were any specific persons that may have been involved?" I press on when she doesn't respond.

"The owner of the Rares Repairs smithy was abducted," Lady says with a bit of an uneasy tremor in her voice.

"And what significance, pray tell, does that have in my life?"

"Maybe this will help jog your memory," Trish sighs, walking up to my desk with a section from yesterday's newspaper in hand.

When she sets it down in front of me, the first thing that catches my attention other than they bold printed _MISSING PERSONS_ is the largest of the eight portraits. I recognize the woman's face instantly, and the name written beneath the picture upholds this. In a surge of rage, I stand from my chair, extending my right arm out to the side. Responding to the gesture like a magnet, Rebellion flies across the room, landing directly into my open hand and sending shockwaves of power pulsating through my veins.

"Tell Morrison to meet me at the police station," I growl while walking towards the front door of my shop and simultaneously trying to keep my demon from surfacing. "I gotta talk to the Commanding Officer."

* * *

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in Joshua's office, I can't help but wonder where my brother has taken Rose. Morrison is sitting in the chair in front of the desk stationed in the center of the room, staring me down, even though I have my back turned to him. I know he's questioning my reasons for being here - and for dragging him into this - and I can't blame him. He just doesn't yet know my brother like I do... What he's capable of.

"I know I've already asked you this a few times too many," Morrison says while leaning back in his chair.

He doesn't get to ask the question. The Commanding Officer of Capulet City's police force, Joshua Star, walks into the room, his eyes locked on me. I keep my back turned to him as well. My demon is still a bit on edge, but staring out the window seems to be helping to calm him a great deal. As the officer sits down in his chair, he pulls a file out from the top drawer of the filing cabinet behind him and places it on the desk. It's a plain white file with a color-printed portrait stapled onto the top left corner.

"Rosamund Alexia Diane Jay," Officer Star reads while leafing through the pages inside the file. "Three-quarter demon. Daughter of the full demon Satan and the half demon Alexia Elaine Jay. Professional blacksmith starting from the age of thirteen, and no criminal record whatsoever."

He pauses and then gently closes the file with a long sigh.

"Tell me exactly why I should not be sending my officers out to look for her."

"You would be sentencing every one of them to death," I respond immediately, earning a shocked expression from Joshua when I turn to face him.

"Dante, you need to realize that you're messing with the federal government," Joshua scoffs, his simple human nature blinding his brain to reasoning. "I can't just pull my men out of a search because you need the reward money to."

"IT'S NOT ABOUT THE DAMNED MONEY!"

Both Morrison and Officer Star look at me as though I've suddenly grown fifteen extra heads. Marching over to the desk, I draw Ivory from the holster on the inside of my coat and point the barrel at Rose's picture.

"She's all that matters to me right now," I say flatly, staring into the Commanding Officer's hazel eyes. "I will kill anyone or anything that gets in my way without a second thought."

"Dante, back down," Morrison warns me.

I point Ivory at him, which shuts him up before he can say anything else.

"My trigger finger is itchy enough as it is, Morrison," I snarl at him. "So don't go pushing your luck."

"Why would I be sentencing my men to death?" Joshua asks, bringing my attention back to the subject at hand.

Whipping my ice blue gaze back to him, I lean over the desk as far as I can, stopping a few inches from his face.

"Because my brother would kill them. He despises humans, and that's part of the reason why he took Rose. Because she's a partial demon that works as a blacksmith, she can give him exactly what he wants; power."

"How can you be certain your brother was the one that abducted her?" Joshua asks.

"If her captor were anyone else but my brother, none of us would be standing here having this discussion," I snap at him, closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths when my demon begins to surge up again.

"What kind of power can she give your brother that an ordinary blacksmith can't?"

 _Does he ever run out of questions to ask?!_

I reach into my pockets and pull out half a dozen blue-grey marble shaped gems, holding them out for Joshua to see.

"The day I met Rose, I watched her make a pair of guns just like mine using gems very similar to these. They can't be purchased anywhere. Only the eyes of certain demons crystallize into gems of different elements"

"How did she forge them?" Morrison asks, walking over to stand beside me.

"With her own two hands, or to be more precise, her right arm."

The three of us turn to face the door where Nero is standing, looking at me with a glint of determination in his saddened azure eyes.


End file.
